My works #14 //.
Set in Los Angeles of the early 2000's, Adonte Jackson - an average junior high schooler is figuring out his own path in life while pursuing the passion of boxing and balancing school with everyday events. Being on the cretin recor...
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❝Too Late❞ ____ 12
"Who's that?" A young aged Adonte questioned in his high pitched voice -before puberty had done him well. His index finger was pointed towards a framed picture that hung in the foyer of the house they were at.
To Adonte it was a stranger, but to his uncle it was no stranger but someone he owed before doing time in the cell. Someone he needed to get on common grounds with quickly. Interrupting his uncle's nervous meltdown state, He turned to the picture his nephew was interested in. "That's Muhammed Ali. One of the greats in boxing."
Adonte put his hand back down to his side and furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity. Boxing was all their calm conversations consisted of the entire day-when his uncle seemed like he wasn't about to have a panic attack. He had mentioned Mike Tyson but not yet Ali, or maybe he did and Adonte's young mind didn't catch it considering all the other information he took in.
Adonte trailed over closer to his uncle and looked up at him. "Did he win a lot?"
"Oh yeah."
"You wanted to be like him?" Don asked right after as his uncle held his left hand in his right one. He chewed on his bottom lip before staring up in Adonte's eyes.
"Sometimes Don, things don't always go as planned. The saying of you can be whatever you want to be only goes so far. Every decision you make affects your future. Yes, I wanted to be like him but it's too late."
Their conversation was cut short as the backdoor opened and in came two men into the dim room-one held a black gun as the other was the man he needed to talk with. Adonte's uncle pushed his small chest for him to stay behind him as he stood up.
Adonte squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he washed the pills down with his water. He had found the pills from the party the other night in his pant's pocket and couldn't resist. His mind was beginning to overwhelm with flashbacks as he felt anxiety towards the match coming up. He knew this was for his uncle but that confidence he had in himself was starting to drift away.
"I can't do it. He's going to kill me." He murmured to himself as he clutched his head in his palms tightly. He could feel his mouth eventually go dry as his heart rate sped. He didn't know if the pills were kicking in quickly or he was borderline having a panic attack.
"Can't fight my way through life right? " He continued to mumble to himself. He clenched his teeth as he smacked his palms against his face. He couldn't even get any sleep, he had begin to wake up in mid-fights. Reality was starting to settle in with him and he thought he couldn't handle it -though he could if he adapted a calmness to his spirit.
